Contagious
by DimplesKid
Summary: What if it's agony now and it's just hell on later? What if the hell comes with a girl? And what if Stiles is the only one sane enough to save them?
1. Chapter 1-Lost

"I love you, Scott McCall", the words traced their way to his mind, burnt into his memory forever. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, kicking around a pebble, not quite sure what he should say or whether he should say anything at all. His thoughts have never been so jumbled up before. Not the bite, nor Peter, nor the Alpha pack, not even Nogitsune could make him feel so helpless and weak, so useless. But losing Allison, it was a different kind of hell. One he wasn't sure he could handle. He kept staring at the marble tombstone and her name written in cursive, waiting for her to jump out in front of him, smiling. Waiting for her angelic voice to go: "Psych! I'm alive. You won't get rid of me that easily!" and laugh at them for even thinking she was anywhere near dead. Waiting for the steady sound of her heartbeat, for the smell of her shampoo, for that little glint in her eye. He was waiting for something, anything, but the longer the wait, the more he realized she was not going to come back. And for the millionth time that day he had to remind himself her death wasn't in vain, although, as time passed by, he believed it less and less. Scott zipped up his jacket and headed down the road, still equally distressed. Then something made him stop. It was a sound. Tiny, barely audible, but just loud enough for his werewolf senses to catch it. It was a gasp. Then it quickly turned to heavy, unsteady breathing and just a moment later thuds. Bunch of intense thuds. Almost like something is being thrown in the air and smashed against trees. Or someone. The realization hit him hard and Scott ran towards the noise, shifting on the go. He could now distinctly see a person being attacked. A person he was definitely going to save.

The wind was howling through branches of trees on top of Beacon Hills. She leaned on an old oak, trying to catch her breath. It was minutes past midnight and the moon was high and bright, lighting up most of the paths and town below, making it nearly impossible to stay out of sight. So she chose forest, managing to keep hidden in shadows for a while. She's been running for hours before she finally lost them, but she kept moving forward just in case. They were more than capable of easily spotting her footprints on the ground or picking up her scent. She was taking a huge risk just by stopping here to rest, but she couldn't go on any further. She was having trouble breathing and all the running made healing so much slower. Her vision was getting blurry and stopping quickly became her best chance for survival. She glanced at the sky, praying for the moonlight to stay away from her. She could feel her muscles sore, twitching in pain from constantly avoiding danger. She's never run so much in her entire life, but then again she's never been chased by five ruthless creatures determined to kill her at any cost. She envied people living in this cosy little town. Beacon Hills. She can't imagine anything evil overshadowing it, waiting for that perfect little moment to stop one's heart beating. Maybe, one day, when this whole thing comes to an end, she can come back and try to start a normal life here.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, picturing the peaceful life she never had, that she didn't hear them approaching. It was only when she was already thrown in the air that she noticed her predators circling around, closing up on her. The most terrifying about them was that they looked human and if it weren't for their all black eyes, you would never be able to recognize the darkness within them. The leader of the group moved his arm in rhythmic, sharp moves which sent her flying like pinball bouncing off of trees without him even touching her. Telekinesis. Just one of many horrific supernatural gifts they've been blessed with. A small pause between two attacks was enough time for her to pull herself together. Claws started growing on top of her fingers. Her jaw line took tighter, more threatening shape. New set of teeth dropped over the old human ones. Angry growl escaped through her fangs. She shifted. It took them by surprise. They didn't expect her to have enough strength left for another shifting. They were right to a certain point, though. She was really weak and it was only a matter of time before she's too exhausted to even stand, let alone fight. She had to use their surprise to her advantage. Take down the leader! The sentence was on repeat in her mind as she knew if she takes him down the rest will go away. She quickly ran up to him pulling her right hand across his chest, her claws piercing through the skin, tearing muscle fibers. The rest of the group attacked and she had to dodge steel of their swords while trying to reach their necks. One strong bite or sharp tear in the right place and they would be dead.

She lost her breath suddenly when cold steel pierced through her rib cage from behind and then it was fiercely pulled out. She fell on the ground, pressing the wound as hard as she could with both of her hands, trying not to bleed out to death. Five figures stood right above her staring with those spooky black eyes. She could see the smirk on leader's face as he held his blade all covered in blood, her blood, high up, aiming for the best spot on her body to finish her off. Her vision was getting all blurry again and she felt her whole body changing to its original human form. She closed her eyes expecting. She is going to die.

But she didn't. Instead she heard growls and screams and fighting. As she struggled to open her eyes again, she saw, as through the mist, lifeless body on the ground next to her. One of the attackers. She looked up to find the leader pressing his collar bone and she heard him order a fallback. Opposing him was a familiar shape. A werewolf. He held his ground until he lost them out of sight and then he took couple of steps towards the girl. She gathered all of her strength left to stand up, still resting her hands on the open wound that bled heavily. She saw him shifting back to his human form, revealing beautifully sculpted torso, strong muscular arms, cute boyish face and dark spiky hair.

"You're hurt", he said in calm, low-tone voice. She nodded, gazing into his chestnut brown eyes. She could see nothing but the intense brown. Then it all turned black.


	2. Chapter 2-Saved?

"And you just thought 'Hey, I'll just bring her to my home' ?", Stiles asked irritated. Sometimes it simply amazed him just how reckless his best friend can get. He was pacing back and forth, nervously running his hand through his messy hair, trying to wrap his head around this waterfall of information.

"Why not?" inquired Scott, munching on a piece of candy.

"Why not?!" Stiles' voice sharply raised as he waved his hands erratically to emphasise his own words: "Oh, I don't know, Scott. Maybe because there's a whole bunch of killers after her!"

"We don't know if they were killers."

"OK, then how do you call someone who puts a sword through your stomach?" he questioned, his eyebrow raising, his frame slumping on the couch.

"Not everyone who does that is a killer", Scott simply stated, noticing the change in Stiles' expression. The boy just sighed deeply, guilt never leaving his eyes. Scott forgave him a long time ago. He knew it wasn't Stiles who took pleasure in hurting him. It was the Nogitsune. He's been trying to tell his best friend it wasn't his fault. None of it was. But it didn't really matter what Scott says. As long as Stiles remembers the feeling of cold steel in his hand and sharp twisting, as long as he can recall the pain, the sorrow he provoked, he won't be himself again. Yes, Scott may have forgiven Stiles, but Stiles might never forgive himself. Scott was about to pointlessly attempt to comfort his friend, when he heard silent shuffling coming from upstairs.

"You hear that?" he queried.

"Hear what?" Stiles reciprocated, still fairly lost in the depths of his own overwhelming thoughts.

"I think she's awake", Scott answered, jumping up from his place at the couch and hurrying up the stairs, Stiles following close behind.

The girl gasped for air, inhaling as much of it as she could, as she shot herself up in sitting position. It took her a couple of minutes to pull herself together. Most of her injuries healed, but she could still feel sudden blazing pain in her rib cage whenever she moved. She was sitting in someone's bed, covered with warm, soft blankets. Whoever put her here didn't bother taking her off of these dirty, ripped clothes, thank God. She wasn't very comfortable with strangers touching her. After all, who would be? She looked around the room curiously, searching for anything that could give away the identity of its owner. All of a sudden a door knob moved and someone walked in. She immediately jumped up and out of bed, taking an instant defensive pose. The pain pierced through her from the movement and she lost balance for a second, starting to fall. The intruder hurried to catch her. It was a teen boy. He looked cute with his little moles, pink lips and messy chocolate hair. Almost innocent. Could he be the one who saved her? In her mind she was trying to bring back the face she barely saw before she fainted. All she could remember was the chestnut brown of his eyes. The dark, powerful shade. As boy was helping her get back in bed, she gazed in his eyes, but they were bright and warm like honey, nothing like the colour of her saviour's. She must have stared for too long, because she could hear his heartbeat getting faster, uneven and she could almost see the sudden discomfort squeeze between them.

Stiles grabbed the girl right before she hit the floor. Her body seemed so light and fragile and he carefully placed her back to bed. Almost too carefully, as if he could possibly break her somehow. She didn't say a word. She just let him manoeuvre her silhouette, getting her among the blankets. But she did look into his eyes curiously, as if there was something so special about them. Soon enough Stiles found himself thoroughly examining her features. Her bronze hair was long and dishevelled, her skin in shades of peach, lips pale pink, eyes icy-blue. She was covered in dirt and bruises, but he could still catch a glimpse of her beauty. Unintentionally, he started picturing her all dolled up, in clean clothes, no scrapes and filth, a smile on her face, maybe. He accidentally smiled at the thought. Then he snapped out of it, embarrassed for his stupid brain. In an instant they both changed their posture a bit, the air getting thicker with uneasiness. Stiles quickly backed away, diverting his attention to Scott.

"Careful. You still haven't healed completely", Scott warned, mostly to break the silence that crept up for a second.

It was only then that the girl took notice of the other boy in the room. She was having trouble connecting the dots, figuring out how she got here, whose house this is and, who on earth, are these guys. She did, however, feel a bit more at ease once she recognized her saviour.

"What happened?" she inquired. Her voice was unusually calm.

"Someone attacked you. Five someones, actually. They set you up good. You were unconscious for two days straight", Scott answered worriedly.

Upon hearing the words, the girl's face lit up with panic and she tried getting up, but Stiles pushed her back, not letting her move: "He already told you, you're still hurt".

She was about to fight her way out, when he added: "And don't even try to oppose or I'll let him of the leash". Scott rolled his eyes at his friend, stepping closer to the bed.

"I'm well enough to walk", she said impudently.

"Good for you", Stiles quipped sarcastically, "We're still not letting you leave, though. You could be dangerous. Or evil. Or both".

"You can't keep me here."

"Oh, but we can. And we will. Until we figure out whose side you're on."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do? Chain me to a radiator?"

"If I have to."

She smirked and whispered tauntingly: "I don't think so. I'm a werewolf, remember?"

Stiles leaned slightly towards her and, pointing to Scott, whispered back: "So is he and I chained him, more than once".

"Well, we're off to a bad start", Scott interrupted playfully: "How about we try this again? Scott McCall". He reached out his hand, properly introducing himself.

"This is Stiles", he continued, pulling his hand back once he realized there will be no handshake or any other form of warm welcomes and friendly behaviour.

The girl frowned, before turning her head away from the boys, saying nothing but her name: "Nanny".

"What kind of name is that?" Stiles could barely hold in laughter.

"What kind of name is Stiles?" she reciprocated, equally rude.

"It's a nickname", he answered back, annoyed.

"Wow. Your first name must be horrible", she said, almost feeling sorry for the boy.

"That is..." he started harshly, but toned it down, "completely true, unfortunately".

"Nanny", Scott spoke again, "could you tell us about those creatures that attacked you? Who were they? And why are they after you?"

"They're pure evil, that's all you should know. But you don't need to worry about them. As soon as I leave this town, they'll be gone."

"Exactly which part of we're not letting you leave you don't understand?" Stiles asked irritated.

"What, on earth, is wrong with you? I'm telling you if I leave, the evil creatures will follow me, thus leaving you alone and you want to keep me here? You know, Scott, you should get your friend's head checked."

"I don't trust you!"

"Stiles..."

"Well, I don't, Scott, ok? She could be lying right now. This whole story could be made up. What if she's one of them?"

Nanny rolled her eyes at Stiles' words, before suggesting: "How about I tell you everything I know? Will that make you less paranoid?"

"Probably not", Stiles admitted, keeping a close eye on her, "but, yeah, start talking".

"Could I possibly get a glass of water first? And some food, maybe? Or am I not allowed that, too?" she inquired, certain bitterness in her voice.

"Of course you can. And you can borrow some of my clothes, if you want to change", Scott said, handing her a T-shirt.

"Would you mind?" she reminded them, waving the clothes in front of their faces. Scott hurried Stiles out the door and down the stairs, leaving Nanny in his room.

Scott was rummaging through the fridge, looking for something decent to serve to Nanny. Stiles was fidgeting his fingers, trying to figure out what they've gotten themselves into this time. He would quickly come up with different scenarios in his head and even more quickly dismiss them. Pure evil, she said. No need to worry, she said. How is he supposed not to be crazy concerned about pure evil?! And what does that even mean? Couple of years ago Peter Hale was the definition of evil, then Deucalion with his Alphas, the Darach after that, and, let's not forget the most recent demonic disaster, the Nogitsune, aka Stiles himself. Things just kept getting worse and worse ever since he was faced with the fact that nightmares are very much real and following simple logic, this brand new pure evil is going to be even more devastating, dreadful and destructive. So, maybe his initial thoughts of Scott being out of his mind for bringing that girl here were actually correct. Maybe, it would be for the best if she left and whatever catastrophe is after her followed her away from Beacon Hills. But that would mean he has to trust the girl is telling the truth. If only he could do that. If only he hadn't been deceived too many times before. He buried his face in his hands, feeling a wrecking surge come over him. Scott pushed a jug of lemonade towards him, smiling, as he made his way up to his room, carrying a tray of food. Stiles grabbed the jug and followed him upstairs. They both almost dropped everything, once they entered the room only to find it empty, wind moving the curtains of the wide open bedroom window. Stiles shrugged his shoulders, commenting cheekily: "Should've chained her".

Nanny strolled down the street, earning numerous judgemental, disgusted glares of just about anyone who took notice of her torn clothes, grimy hair and tormented face. She must've resembled a hobo even more than she thought. However, she couldn't be bothered. There were more important things on her mind. Nanny picked up the scent of her attackers not far away from Scott's house. She could distinctly tell they were stalking him for a while, before moving on downtown. Nanny focused on the smell, tracing it to the mall. Why would they gather around the mall? They weren't exactly let's-go-shopping type of people. She sat on the bench opposite the large building. No point in trying to hide. They'll just use their abilities to locate her, like usual. Besides, she knew for a fact they won't attempt anything foolish, not with this crowd of people nearby. Which made her anxious. Why would they lure her out here, where they can't do anything without revealing their powers? It doesn't make sense. Unless... Unless, it's not her they are awaiting. Her eyes darted through the crowd, panic overflowing her mind. She bit her lower lip in a desperate attempt to remain calm, as her gaze hysterically searched for two boys. It must be them. Scott and Stiles, ones that helped her, kept her hidden, are now being targeted. The harder she tried to spot them, the less she could make out faces in the bunch, but she was not going to give up. Find them before the others. The sentence was stuck on repeat, as she pushed herself to hear familiar voices or catch a glimpse of familiar faces. It was then that she accidentally stumbled upon something peculiar. A thin layer of bright orange light enveloping a girl leaving the mall. She was cheerful and carefree, bags in her hands, headphones in her ears, playing some catchy tune. Nanny took a better look and could now clearly see the light forming a specific shape. A fox. Her eyes grew with astonishment as she finally understood who her attackers were expecting. Kitsune.

"I see you've noticed our little discovery", deep, raspy voice sent chills down her spine.

Tall, athletic boy plopped down next to her. His black curls swayed in the breeze. He rested his hand on his chin in the famous thinker pose and Nanny could see the sunlight bathing his long lashes.

"Keep your eyes on the prize, Crade", she reminded him.

He turned around to look at her and she shuddered at the black lifelessness of his once beautifully turquoise eyes. He slid his cold palm down her cheek as he replied: "I am keeping my eyes on you, darling".

Then he laughed merrily, adding: "Doesn't mean I can't have fun in the meanwhile".

She looked away, her gaze stopping at his collar bone. Sharp, painful tear was still visible. Upon noting it, he slid his hand across the wound, declaring: "A little souvenir from the brazen cub".

Nanny smirked pleased at the thought of Scott's claws ripping Crade's perfect porcelain skin.

"Last time I checked cubs were hardly a threat to you", she stated, knowing it would make his blood boil with frustration.

They sat there for a while in complete silence, watching people pass by. Finally, Nanny asked: "Why are you talking to me? What is the real reason behind it?"

"What? Can't I enjoy a nice little chat with a cute girl?"

"Not if that girl is me. Come on, Crade, you know we don't chat. We fight. You and your minions attempt to kill me, I struggle to stay alive. It's just the way it goes", she explained, turning her body more towards the boy.

"So the real question is why aren't we doing it right now? Why am I not running away from Beacon Hills with you chasing me?"

Crade groaned, displeased: "I came to offer you a truce".

"A truce?" Nanny repeated, not quite sure how to feel about it.

"Yes. Running from us, you've accidentally discovered a goldmine of supernatural. You wouldn't believe things that exist in Beacon Hills. Things worth killing."

"No, Crade, you can't", she pleaded, guilt burning her body. She brought them here. She put everyone in danger.

"Your assignment is not to kill other werewolves, it's to kill me!" she screamed, desperately trying to get him to focus on catching her, not some innocent pack.

"And I promise you, I will do it", he simply responded, "right after I'm done sweeping this place clean. If I were you, I would leave this town and get several days of advantage, run as far away as possible while we're busy here."

He had a point. If she was smart, she would've listened. If she was as ruthless. But, she wasn't. In her time as a werewolf, she came to realize not everything supernatural was necessarily evil. Werewolves were like people, she's met both good and bad. And for once Nanny was certain Scott was one of the good guys. So there was no doubt in her mind she was doing the right thing when she suggested: "I'll surrender".

The sentence caught Crade's attention an she continued: "If you agree to leave Beacon Hills forever, I'll let you have me. I'll let you kill me".

Crade hesitated for a second, before standing up, leaving her without an answer. As he was slowly walking away, he declared: "We are not leaving".

In that one instant, a decision was born in Nanny's mind and she whispered to herself determined: "Neither am I".


	3. Chapter 3-Unpredictable

The racket of the lockers opening and being slammed shut overpowered Scott's ability to think. Hallways are always such a mess right before lunch. He was neatly putting away his books, not because he was immaculate, but rather because it gave him something to focus on, something other than whirlwind of emotions and problems he will have to deal with eventually. Eventually not being today.

"Stop. Scott, just stop", friendly voice besought and Scott couldn't quite make out if it was kindly offering him advice or barking orders. Stiles was leaning his back on the first locker to the left, resting his head on his arms, his left leg gently bent in knee. He seemed so peaceful, relaxed and at ease with himself. But Scott knew better than that. Stiles was going through the same amount of anguish as Scott, probably even more than Scott.

He glanced at his faithful partner in crime, responding: "I'm not doing anything. Well, besides putting away my textbooks, anyways".

"I was referring to that look in your eyes", Stiles explained, not changing posture, not even for an inch, which only proved how tense he actually was.

"What look?" Scott inquired, closing his locker door, slowly heading down the corridor towards the cafeteria.

"That look!" Stiles announced, going after his buddy, getting all worked up, as he continued speaking: "That whole Save-An-Innocent determined sort of thing you've got going on".

Scott chose to ignore the last sentence as he picked up his pace. Stiles grunted, realizing this was going to be much harder than he would've liked. Several quick steps and he found himself in front of Scott, causing him to ram into him, earning a death glare.

"Look, bro, although I appreciate you being the kind spirit, I feel as if it's my moral responsibility to tell you that sometimes you just have to let it go", he stated lightly, placing his hand on Scott's shoulder, showing support, as he added: "Seriously, before it gets us all in trouble".

Scott studied Stiles' hand for several painfully long seconds, before looking him dead in the eyes, asking: "Do you want her to get killed?"

Stiles' hand slid down into the empty space between them, as his gaze dropped to the floor. He could vividly imagine broken silhouette hitting the ground, final breath leaving her sore lungs, life gradually slipping out of her bright blue eyes. His body trembled at the picture his mind was painting for him. Then he completely froze as his brain replaced the girl's face with Lydia's, Malia's, his dad's, and, finally, Scott's.

In cold dethatched voice, he answered: "No, but I also don't want my friends or my dad to get killed".

At last, Scott understood. Stiles wasn't prepared to risk the lives of people he cared about, not this time, not again. And Scott should feel the same way. He does feel the same way, now when he thinks about it more carefully.

He hugged Stiles with his right arm, indulging him: "I get it, I really do now. And I promise I'll stay out of it".

"You know, there's cupcakes for dessert today", was Stiles' response and both boys raced to the cafeteria.

The deafening sound of the bell resonated through the school, reminding students of continuous torture know as classes. Scott was still with Kira finishing his meal, discussing some boring biology homework and Stiles decided to get a head start on the oncoming rush of people in the hallways. He felt a lot calmer, trusting his best buddy to keep his promise of not interfering with whatever sick and twisted villainy was after Nanny. The girl is gone and so is everything potentially bad. Stiles was free to feel serene, dare he say safe. Although, in his case serenity meant endless amounts of spare time to linger on past mistakes and somehow find a way to cope with his guilt. But he would, hands down, take remorse over a new war any day of the week. He glimpsed through the window at the long line of trees outside the school, noticing rays of sunshine shyly dancing in the leaves. Even the weather started to look up. It was warm, not a cloud in sight, which was phenomenal for Lydia's hair. It would straighten if it were humid. Wait, why is he staring at Lydia's hair? Further more, why is Lydia at the school parking lot with some random dude? Except that it isn't a random dude. Stiles nearly fell through the window glass, trying to get a better look at the man. Despite the distance and unfavourable angle he was spying from, Stiles was fairly certain he recognized Lydia's interlocutor. They both suddenly simultaneously turned heads towards the window and Stiles dropped on the floor, barely escaping their sight. When he dared to peek outside again, the man was already gone and he spotted Lydia going back inside, so he headed her direction, intercepting her near her locker.

"Was that Peter Hale?" he interrogated heatedly, clenching his fists.

How could she possibly be so naive to hang around that weasel?! A raise of an eyebrow and a confused huff suggested she had no idea what he was talking about.

"I saw you chatting with some guy at the parking lot just now. Was it Peter Hale?" he repeated his question, resentment embellishing every word.

She put her hands on her hips, offended, denying: "No". Then she turned on her heel ready to walk away, when he grabbed her forearm, stopping her.

"Lydia", her name rolled off his lips gently, spoken with genuine care: "You can tell me".

She glanced at his hand before she yanked her forearm out of his loose grip, assuring: "There is nothing to tell".

"I don't know what is it that you think you need him for, but, trust me, you don't! If you need help with anything, you have us, your friends! Lydia!" he yelled after her, but she kept walking away, not bothering to acknowledge his words.

He was just about to go after her when his attention was caught by something far more shocking. And he wasn't the only one. Every single person still standing in the hallway had their eyes locked on the front doors, jaws dropped, as they moved aside to make way for a solitary figure marching.

Stiles felt his mouth go dry, as he gulped and stated in disbelief: "You have got to be kidding me".

The doors to the coach's office slammed shut and Stiles hurried to close the blinds before the odd couple draws any more unwanted attention. His eyes carefully examined confused girl standing in the middle of the room, staring right back at him. Both kept quiet waiting for the other one to react. Stiles was hoping this was somehow a dream, a nightmare, really, one that started not too long ago and has yet to end. He briefly glanced at the girl's hands, making a quick count of her fingers. Five on each hand. Damn it.

He took a deep breath, before angrily asking: "Are you out of your freaking mind?!"

Nanny looked at him baffled: "I'm not sure I follow".

"You're not sure you..." he murmured to himself, before elaborating: "What were you thinking just prancing in the school looking like a complete wreck?"

"My appearance is what bothers you?" she inquired, surprise obvious in her voice.

"No. Personally, I couldn't care less that you look like a deadbeat, but couple of hundreds students out there might. And what are you even doing here? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else, somewhere far, far, far away from Beacon Hills?"

"That was the initial plan", Nanny answered, leaning on the coach's desk: "Then it changed. I'm here to talk to Scott".

"Oh, you want to talk to Scott? If that's the case, you can just go right back to whatever little wolf cave you crawled out of, because it is not going to happen, okay? Okay."

With that, Stiles grabbed the door knob, ready to leave behind every single piece of the unknown and probably fatal puzzle that was firmly attached to Nanny's existence.

And he would've done just that if it wasn't for the horrifying certainness in her voice, as she declared: "He needs my help. You all do".

She was still resting on the edge of the desk, arms crossed on her chest, eyes pinned to the floor, left foot nervously brushing against the right. There was something about her demeanour. Barely noticeable hesitation hidden behind layers and layers of attitude, hesitation that shockingly resembled fear.

"We need your help with what?" Stiles queried, well aware of the fact he is entering a slippery slope. She was speechless for a short moment, taken aback by the boy's sudden interest at the information.

Then she proceeded to speak: "Remember the pure evil I mentioned to you before?"

"Yeah, the one you said we shouldn't be worried about. What about it?"

"It turns out you should be worried."

"Why? Didn't you say they'll go after you and leave Beacon Hills?"

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before they found new favourite targets."

Stiles exhaled heavily, not being able to react in any other way as he placed himself next to Nanny. He was studying cracks in the floor, as array of different thoughts piled up in his head, one being much louder than the others-not again. He was in a desperate need of a break. They all were. And, strangely enough, he missed the good old days, filled with dull lectures and tedious homework, when the greatest concern was scoring a goal on the field. All he really wanted was at least one normal semester without supernatural killers to deal with. Was that too much to ask? Nanny observed his face, picking up on every little change on it. For some reason, this was extremely hard for him. Almost like he knows exactly what horrors lie ahead, even though she still hasn't told him. She reached out her hand towards the poor boy. Then she paused midway, pondering her actions for a while, before finally going through with it. Stiles could feel the gentle warmth of her palm radiating through his arm. The tiny contact that made him calm.

"Now you see why I have to talk to Scott. I need to warn him."

He simply nodded, getting up, going to the window.

"Just one more thing..."

At his words, she joined him near the window, wanting to be closer for this one thing to hear. He took his backpack off his shoulder and handed it to her, requesting: "If you could... Just hold this for a second".

She took the backpack in her left hand, confused. In one swift move, her free hand was being yanked and she heard clicking. Stiles than took his backpack back, thanking her, smug smile on his face. She looked at her wrist. It was handcuffed. To a radiator.

"Seriously?"

"I'm not making the same mistake twice", he responded, overly pleased with himself.

"Where did you even get handcuffs?"

"My dad's the sheriff."

"You stole them from your own father?!" she exclaimed, incredibly amused.

"Borrowed."

"And you just carried them around with you in case I show up again?"

"Yes", he retorted, suddenly grasping how silly it sounds, so he quickly added: "Now, shut up and let me go get Scott, will you?"

She put her left hand in the air as if to say go ahead and he stepped out, sarcastically commenting: "Don't go anywhere. Not that you can".

"You just made me promise I'd stay out of it, like, an hour ago", reminded Scott, navigating through swarm of people in the hallway.

Stiles was walking backwards, in front of him, not wanting to lose eye contact while he's explaining: "And now I'm asking you to break that promise".

Scott sighed, shrugging his shoulders, unsure of whether he should go along with Stiles' change of mind.

"All I'm saying is listen to what she has to say. Maybe it's legit."

"I thought you didn't trust her."

"I don't. It doesn't mean I'm going to recklessly ignore the fact she could be telling the truth", Stiles argued, opening the door to coach's office.

Nanny was comfortably lounging in the leather armchair, behind the desk, browsing a magazine she probably found in one of the drawers. Stiles' gaze was moving from her to the radiator, then back to her. She put down the magazine and smiled at them.

"Well, it was about time. I believe you want this back", she said, throwing handcuffs to Stiles.

He caught them midair, curious to know: "How did you get out?"

"Claws", she pointed out, studying her fingernails: "And a bit of lock picking".

"Stiles says you wanted to warn me about something", Scott was impatient to obtain information.

Her face took on more serious expression. She straightened her posture and cleared her throat.

"My predators have decided to expand their hit list. I'm guessing the names they added all belong to your pack."

"And you know that, how exactly?"

"After I left your place, I wanted to make sure they'd catch my trail and follow me out of Beacon Hills, so I tracked them down. They gathered around the mall."

"The mall? What kind of evil creatures go shopping together?" Stiles was baffled by her words.

"Not this kind, that's for sure. Which is why I stuck around for a while, to see what they're really up to. They were after another supernatural being, a non-werewolf one. A Kitsune, to be precise".

She paused, waiting for their reactions, although she was fairly certain they were already aware of Kitsune's existence. Observing their behaviour, she not only confirmed her suspicions, but also understood they actually knew that girl. And unexpectedly, the decision to discuss everything with Scott became even more relevant than before.

She continued: "And if they found out about that girl, be sure they know about every single werewolf in this town".

"You think they'll be coming after all of us."

"I know they will. I also know how to fight them. I can teach you how to defend yourselves."

"Or you could just tell us who they are and we can figure out how to defeat them by ourselves", Stiles suggested, still a bit wary.

"True, but that would take too much time. And you don't have the luxury of it. If Scott brings his pack I can explain everything about our enemies, show you how to be efficient in getting rid of them. Right now it's your best bet."

After couple of minutes of silence, Scott finally agreed: "Fine. I'll get them all to come to my house after classes. Stiles, take her to my place and you both wait for us there".

"Me? Why me? It's your house. You can take her."

"I have to inform my pack about this, remember? Besides, you have your own key."

"What about classes? I can't skip the rest of them."

"I'll tell the teacher you didn't feel well. Now go", Scott ordered pushing both Stiles and Nanny out of the room.

Nanny stood in the shower, her eyes squeezed shut, stream of hot water pouring over her. It felt so good finally being able to scrape the filth off of her skin. Never in a million years could she imagine how precious a simple bar of soap would be. She enjoyed the serenity that came with a nice shower. Like, somehow, jet of water gliding over her tired skin erased every single worry in the world. Once she finished, she wrapped herself up in one of the big towels. She quickly put on the same pair of jeans, the only pair she had with her and an oversized red T-shirt she borrowed from Scott's closet. Nanny wiped the fog off the bathroom mirror, spending several long seconds examining her own features. All the scrapes and bruises were gone, her hair and face clean at last. Torment was, however, still very much there, safely nested in her eyes. There was a faint knock on the bathroom door and a sentence followed: "I brought you a toothbrush".

She opened the door to find Stiles awkwardly standing there, holding a toothbrush in his hand. He carefully scrutinized the girl, noticing the subtle changes in her posture. How her shoulders were more relaxed, for example, and she was slightly leaned on the edge of the door. T-shirt she was now wearing was definitely too big, but it looked good on her, made her seem more natural, approachable. Her hair was still semi wet and her lips turned bright red, from the blood rushing through them from the heat of the water.

It took him a moment to start blinking again and he handed her toothbrush, explaining: "I went out and bought it while you were in the shower. Thought you might want one".

"Thanks."

"No worries. You'll pay me back", he smiled, not actually planning on making her do it, but not wanting to miss an opportunity to tease her a bit.

Couple of minutes later she joined him in the living room, placing herself on the far opposite end of the sofa, too conscious about invading his personal space. He slid a cup of still steaming tea across the table and they drank quietly. Out of the blue, still sipping on her tea, Nanny inquired: "What happened to you?"

He raised his eyebrow questioningly. She proceeded: "Back in the school, when I was telling you about the danger rising, you seemed as if you knew exactly the horrors I had in mind even though I haven't said a word. It just made me think you must've gone through something similar. What was it?"

He hesitated for a while, before answering: "My best friend is a werewolf, that's what happened".

Nanny might've believed him if it wasn't for his heartbeat. She heard it clearly. A small anomaly that almost went unnoticed. One irregular beat in otherwise regular rhythm. Undeniable proof of lying. There was something else on the boy's mind that refused to leave him alone. At first she figured she could probably pressure him into revealing what it was, but she gave up on the idea, remembering Stiles' words from before: "I don't trust you". So she didn't ask further, deciding it would be for the best to just wait for the moment when he starts trusting her enough, when they all do. If that moment ever comes.

They both jumped up from the sofa as they heard the clicking of the lock and people coming in. First one in the room was the girl Nanny saw before. The Kitsune. Then two other girls came in, a brunette and a redhead. At last, with Scott, entered the room another guy, a bit older than them, by the looks of it. Each of the newcomers had a distinct aura about them that Nanny easily recognized. Now she understood what Crade meant by 'you wouldn't believe things that existed in Beacon Hills'. As they comfortably sat around the room, Scott stood in the middle of the room, pulling Nanny with him.

All eyes were on the girl, as Scott introduced her: "Everyone, this is Nanny. She is going to inform us about that new threat I was telling you about earlier".

They nodded in agreement and he went on: "Nanny, this is Kira". He was referring to the Kitsune. Kira smiled politely.

"Malia." The brunette waved awkwardly. Nanny took notice of her scent. It was similar to Scott's and the other guy's, but with a slight difference.

"Lydia." The third girl just glanced at her briefly, but it was enough for Nanny to note peculiar semblance to her.

"And, finally, Derek." Him and Nanny eyed each other up, inspecting. This made her believe he was in this whole werewolf thing much longer than any of them.

After taking another thorough look at every single person in the room, Nanny was left displeased and quite concerned.

"This is your pack? A werewolf, a were-coyote, Kitsune, Banshee and a human?" she questioned, uncertain how this kind of group can even work together.

"Don't worry. We're all pretty impressive", Stiles pointed out.

"Isn't there something you should tell us?" Derek was getting impatient: "Like, who are our enemies?"

Nanny took a deep breath, taking one final look at the crowd, as she calmly stated: "They are called Coordinators".


End file.
